“Lively now, men!” went on the officer. “Forward! There they are!”
The dark mass of fighters which had been near the shore before the boats landed had gone farther up the strand just as the battleship men arrived. But now they were again rushing down the beach.
There were shouts, yells and cries, mingling with the pop of small arms. Most of the shouting was in a foreign tongue, Portuguese, most likely, so Ned and Frank thought.
“There must be a lot of our citizens here,” said Ned, as he saw that there were two good-sized crowds, one evidently attacking the other. And it was this attack and repulse, this backward and forward movement, as the tide of fighting changed, that had taken the conflicting forces away from the water’s edge, and now, once more, brought them to it again.
“Those who are being attacked aren’t all Americans,” said a petty officer near our heroes. “Our citizens threw their lot in with the inhabitants here who are opposed to the revolutionists, and the latter are attacking the loyal natives as well as our men. Now we’ll—”
But he had no time to explain further, as sharp orders to advance came. It was not very dark, though it was about midnight, for the moon shone brightly, and now the battleship had brought to bear on the scene all her powerful searchlights.
“Forward and at ’em!” came the command. “Protect the Americans!”
Snarling cries came in answer from the revolutionists. But they did not give way at once, though they must have realized that they were about to be attacked by some of the best-trained fighting men in the world, and some of the bravest—the United States blue-jackets.
The crack of guns, which had ceased for a moment, now began again more spitefully than before. The two parties in the riot were firing at one another, and bullets began to sing over the heads of the battleship boys. Instinctively several ducked. Others laughed.
“You needn’t duck,” some one near Frank called. “When you hear the bullet it’s past you.”
“Over this way!” a voice shouted in English. “Over this way, battleship boys! They’re beating us back!”
It was a cry for help from those being attacked by the rioters.
Ned and Frank found themselves in a division that was being led off to one side for a flank attack. The hearts of both lads were beating violently. It was the first time they had ever been under fire, and for the first time they were about to fire a shot at a human being. It was a strange feeling, but they felt that right was on their side. And they were going to save the lives of fellow citizens who were being attacked by a foreign mob.